How To Please a Pirate (17 page)

Did she imagine it, or did he suck his breath
in over his teeth? As promised, he hadn’t moved an inch, but his
fingers balled into fists at his sides.

She leaned forward, her breasts swinging
free, to slide her legs into Timothy’s old breeches.

Was she hearing things? She could have sworn
Gabriel made a low groan.

She straightened and wiggled the breeches up
over her hips. Carefully, she fastened first one side, then the
other of the drop front, concealing her triangle of auburn
curls.

He couldn’t see her unless he had eyes in the
back of his head, but just having him in the room while she was
nearly naked made her feel utterly wicked. She fisted her hair and
pulled it up off her neck, letting the cool air from the passageway
tickle her nape. She arched her back in a stretch.

He coughed and sputtered as if he’d just
choked on a pumpkin seed.

“Are you quite finished?” he asked, his voice
tight.

“Almost.” She pulled Timothy’s shredded shirt
on and began doing up the few buttons Gabriel had left on it the
last time she wore it. She’d never thought to wear it again, just
to use the fabric for patches, so she hadn’t replaced them.

“Bloody pirate,” she muttered.

“What was that?”

“Nothing,” she said, irritated when she
couldn’t seem to close the shirtfront decently. Her nipples still
peeped out at her.

This is exactly what he’d like, no
doubt.
She shook her ribs to make her breasts bounce.

Another noise, almost a sigh came from
Gabriel’s direction.

Strangely enough, even if he couldn’t see
them, it pleased her to think of her breasts bare with him so
close. Her nipples tightened and she glowed rosily, flushed with
guilty pleasure. She tried so hard to be a lady, but at her core,
she was a creature of passion. Jacquelyn truly was Isabella Wren’s
daughter, after all.

Maybe that is no bad thing, provided I
keep things in check
, she decided as she knotted the shirt in
front and left her back bare. The ache in her groin had dulled to a
pleasantly tolerable level.

“Very well, I’m ready,” she announced.

The tension drained out of his shoulders and
he turned to face her, tight-lipped.

“My lord, I’m very impressed,” she said. “You
were a perfect gentleman in a trying circumstance.”

“You’ve no idea.” He took up the candlestick
and disappeared into the passageway. “If you’ll follow me,
Mistress.”

“Lead on, my lord,” she said cheerfully as
she closed the secret doorway behind her. Her smile faded when she
looked back into the room.

And noticed the placement of her looking
glass.

Gabriel stifled a chuckle. “Very trying
circumstances indeed.”

Jacquelyn gnawed the inside of her cheek in
embarrassment. He’d had a full view of her the whole time. He’d
seen every bit of her skin, even down to the delicate folds between
her legs that still pounded with aching fury. And worse yet, an
exceedingly naughty part of her was actually glad he’d seen
her.

What possessed her?

Gabriel Drake.

That had to be the explanation. Since he’d
taken her maidenhead, every sense of decency had been stripped
away. He’d claimed her, changed her somehow. During the ball, she
caught herself watching him as he danced, enjoying the display of
masculine grace. She admired the cut of his frockcoat and the snug
fit of his knee-breeches.

And wondered what he’d look like without
them.

The old Mistress Wren would no more have
entertained such notions than she’d have screamed obscenities in
the chapel, but ‘Lyn’ seemed overflowing with wicked thoughts.

Even now, as she trailed him through the dark
corridor, part of her couldn’t help noticing the way his breeches
hugged his buttocks and muscular thighs. Her fingertips tingled to
slide up under his shirt to trace the indentation of his spine.

This is so wrong.
Jacquelyn knew she
should go back, but when she glanced over her shoulder at the dark
void behind her, she realized she could wander this labyrinth for
days without finding her chamber again. For better or worse,
Gabriel Drake was her guide.

“My lord—“

“Shh!” he cautioned, stopping to turn and
place a finger on her lips. The silence was severed by a loud snort
on the other side of the wall, then followed by the deep rhythmic
buzz of a snore. “If we are to explore together, you must call me
Gabriel. ‘My lord’ makes me feel far too . . .” his whisper trailed
away to nothing as he searched for the apt word.

“Lordly?”

“I was going to say old. Reminds me of my
father, but I’d accept ‘lordly’ if it meant you were inclined to
obedience,” he leaned down to murmur into her ear. His warm breath
on her neck set her skin dancing.

“And how would you have me obey you more
thoroughly?”

He made a sound she couldn’t decipher, almost
like a low growl in the back of his throat.

“Have I displeased you?”

“No.” He inhaled deeply and she thought he
muttered something about Ulysses only being plagued with Sirens,
while he . . . Here she lost the thread of his thought.

“Gabriel?”

“We must be quiet. If we can hear them, they
can hear us.”

The wheezing on the far side of the wall grew
louder.

“That must be Mrs. Beadle,” she whispered
back to him.

He shrugged. “Or Meriwether. His snore could
wake the dead.”

“And Mrs. Beadle could make them long for the
quiet of the grave,” she said with a grin.

“God forbid Meri and Mrs. B. ever get
together, then.”

Jacquelyn choked on that thought. “You think
such a thing might be possible?”

Gabriel’s shoulders hitched upward. “God
knows. Meri’s half-convinced himself into fondness for her on the
strength of her excellent cherry pies.” He shook his head. “Only
the very wise or a total fool would claim to understand why some
folk fancy each other.”

“I don’t think it’s a matter of choice,”
Jacquelyn said as they moved on. If she had a say in the matter,
she certainly wouldn’t have a twitch in her loins for a prodigal
pirate. “I’m coming to believe passion isn’t a thing that may be
selected.”

“And yet, a selection is what you’ve foisted
upon me.”

“Tis not my doing,” she said. “Tis simply a
thing which must be done. Besides from what I’ve heard of marriage
among nobility, passion is not a requirement in any case. What
matters is that the match be deemed suitable for both parties.”

The passageway led them steeply upward till
they came upon a door that led out onto small, private balcony
overlooking even the battlements. After the confinement of the
narrow passage, Jacquelyn breathed a sigh of relief as the heavens
opened above them. Stars winked overhead, brittle pinpricks in the
inky sky.

“Life is filled with choices,” Jacquelyn
said. She chose then to fill her lungs with the crisp night air
instead of throw herself upon the man at her side as she wished.
“Some choices are simply harder than others.”

“And somehow you expect me to choose a
baroness from the eligible young ladies you trotted before me this
night.”

“Tis not my fault you were born to the
title,” she said, leaning on the stone crenellations to peer down
into the dark bailey. “All I’m trying to do is help you keep
it.”

“Ah, Mistress, there’s somewhat else I’d
rather have you help me keep. My sanity, for one.”

He pinched off the candle flame and set the
candlestick down. Then he turned back to her. She stood perfectly
still as he reached up a hand and ran a finger from her temple to
her jaw. Then he cupped her chin and lowered his mouth to kiss her
softly.

She should run, she knew. Whether she could
find her way out or not, she should bolt down into the blackness.
But she couldn’t bear to tear herself away from the sweetness of
his mouth on hers.

When he pulled back, he brushed her lower lip
with his thumb. “A title isn’t everything. What if I decided I
didn’t want it?”

“You must,” she said miserably, turning her
face away from him. “For the sake of everyone in the Caern.”

“Dragon Caern was old when my father’s father
came into this barony. This estate has done quite well without me
up till now,” he said, releasing her to lean on the balcony rail.
“It will continue when I am gone.”

“The estate will thrive under competent
leadership, yes,” she said. “But what of the girls? You must
protect your nieces’ interests. Can you honestly think they’d be
better off in the Crown’s keeping?”

“So far, they’re not doing so well in mine.
Hyacinth was nearly ravished this night.”

“And would have been but for you,” she said.
“You were right. I shouldn’t have let her attend the ball.”

“You couldn’t have known what would happen.”
He waved off her confession. “Even the perfect Mistress Wren cannot
see all ends.”

She decided to let this little jibe pass
unremarked.

“I’ve yet to thank you for what you did.”
She’d been so afraid Gabriel would be hurt during the swordfight
with that vile Baron Curtmantle, but she was unable to look away.
Muscles tense, sword arm swinging, his face etched with the fury of
an avenging angel, he was too spectacular to miss a moment. “I’ve
never seen the like. You were magnificent and terrible at the same
time.”

“Bah! The day I can’t best Hugh Curtmantle I
may as well turn up my toes,” he said.

“Still, you shouldn’t take chances with your
life. Your nieces need you, Gabriel,” she said.

“And what of you, Lyn?” He rested his warm
palm on her shoulder and then let it slide down her arm. Their
fingers twined of their own accord. “Have you no needs?”

“I need . . . “ The back of her throat felt
suddenly thick. A host of erotic longings assaulted her, beginning
with where her wicked dream left off. Ignoring the clamor of her
body, she called upon her will. “I need for you to stop calling me
Lyn.”

His mouth tightened into a hard line, but he
gave her a grudging nod. “Mistress, I wish to heaven you weren’t
stronger than me.”

“I’m not,” she said, suddenly angry with him.
“Can you not see that I’m dangling by a thread? You stupid, stupid
man. Do you think I don’t want you?”

“Frankly, I don’t know what to think,” he
said, backing half a step from her, stunned by her outburst. “First
you give me your purity, then you push me away. You fill the castle
with other women for me to court, then you call out my name in your
sleep. You’re all I can think of, and yet your first thought is
always for the Caern. Except when you’re ripping off your
nightshift and shaking your teats at me. You’re a right puzzlement,
Mistress Wren.”

She covered her face with both hands and
heaved a sigh. “I’m a puzzlement to myself as well.” Her voice
shook. “My looking glass shows me a face I don’t recognize these
days. I don’t know what’s come over me.”

“I do.” He gently took her wrists and pulled
her hands away from her face. His smile was both gentle and
wickedly sensual at the same time and Jacquelyn couldn’t figure out
how he managed such a feat. “Don’t blame yourself and don’t blame
the mirror. I have an exceptionally high opinion of that looking
glass just now.”

“Oh, you beast!” She tried to swat at him,
but he held her wrists tight. “You know what I meant.”

“Yes, I do,” he said, suddenly serious.
“You’ve discovered a part of yourself you didn’t know exists.
Perhaps you’d rather not admit to your passionate nature, but it
won’t change the facts. You’re not the first to discover you are
something other than what you always thought. I was born the son of
a gentleman. Do you think I enjoyed waking up every morning and
shaving the chin of a pirate?”

“According to Mr. Meriwether, you weren’t
given much choice.”

His smile inverted slightly. “I wish I could
believe that, but I must live in this skin. I know the truth. The
truth is the pirate was in there all along, just waiting for the
opportune moment.” His smile turned suddenly wicked again. “There
were times when I enjoyed shaving a pirate very much.”

“So you’re saying that I’ve always been a
whore, but I just didn’t know it?”

“No, not at all,” Gabriel said. “For a bright
woman, you’re singularly gifted in mistaking my meaning. I find you
the most exciting, the most passionate woman I’ve ever known.
Certainly no whore. And I want you to know I’ve never regretted
taking your virginity.”

She made a noise that sounded suspiciously
like a snort. “Is that your idea of an apology? Of all the—”

He silenced her with a searching kiss that
warmed her to her toes.

“That’s just the pirate in me,” he admitted
when he released her mouth. “I can’t regret what I’ve taken from
you, Lyn. But I’ve suffered untold pangs over having taking your
maidenhead so badly.”

She digested this astounding admission. “It
wasn’t so bad,” she said in a small voice. “I suspect it would have
gotten better. You must admit, we were interrupted at an untimely
moment.”

“Granted.” His lips twitched in a suppressed
grin as he looked around. “Since no one but we knows of the secret
passages, the likelihood of our being interrupted again now seems
remote.”

She closed her eyes, only to see an image of
the two of them clinging together in grinding passion burned on her
vision.

“But I am not wellborn and you must—“

“Yes, I must do my duty for Dragon Caern,” he
finished for her. “And God help me, I will. But I’m only a man. And
not a very good one at that. I’ll do what needs doing for the sake
of the Caern, but I can’t bear the thought of not ever making love
to you, Lyn. I don’t think I can live that way.”

He pressed a lover’s kiss into her open
palm.